Puckleberry vs The Pigskin
by xXxThe Phantom's RosexXx
Summary: Of course, out of all the people Berry could have picked to teach her about football so she could impress Wonder Boy, she had to pick me. Terrific.
1. CHAPTER ONE

**Title**: PUCKLEBERRY vs. THE PIGSKIN

**Author's Note/Summary**: Of course, out of all the people Berry could have picked to teach her about football so she could impress Wonder Boy, she had to pick me. Terrific.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Glee

**Rating**: Kt to T because of Puck's potty mouth…hehe.

_**CHAPTER ONE:**_

_**I'LL BE THERE WITH BELLS AND KITTENS ON**_

"Wait…you want me to do _what_?"

"Teach me about football," Rachel Berry smiled enthusiastically.

"_Why_?" Noah Puckerman recoiled at the request. He and Rachel were not on the best terms and he was not at all thrilled over the concept at having to spend his free time teaching her about football. Besides, wouldn't she be too afraid she'd break a nail or something?

"Because you and Finn have that big game coming up…"

"The _Championship_?" Puck rolled his eyes, annoyed at her stupidity towards all things football.

"Yeah and I want to go to surprise him after the game. However, if I am going to be watching said game take place, I would rather watch it with a thorough understanding of what is taking place on the rink."

"The field."

"Yeah. And considering that it's a surprise for Finn, I can't very well ask him to teach me, so I am turning to you, Noah."

Puck grimaced at his name. Only she called him that and he hated her for it. Great, so not only did she want him to teach her football, she wanted him to teach her so that she could go off and impress Finnessa. Awesome. Just fucking awesome.

"So remind me why I should help you impress Wonder Boy," Puck said smugly, clearly impressed with the new nickname he had come up with.

"Because…" Rachel thought it over before shrugging, "You'll be helping me. So what do you say?"

"What exactly is in this for me – other than having to put up with your obnoxious presence every day after school?"

"Well, you'd be helping me out and…I could well…hmmm."

"Exactly. The situation isn't all that win-win. If there's nothing in it for me, you can forget it, Berry. I'm not going to help you woo Pattycakes over there," Puck nodded towards Finn who was currently juggling some books back into his locker. One fell to the ground and he blushed a fierce shade of red before bending down to pick it up, "Classic," Puck smirked.

"Leave him alone!" Rachel flamed, "Just help me, please Noah."

She looked up at him with those big puddles of chocolate she called eyes. He could practically feel himself melt into the linoleum. Fucking terrific. He was going to give in. He knew better than to let Rachel Berry have her way, but those eyes – Goddamn those eyes! They were the strings that kept him tied around her little finger – not that he would ever admit that out loud to anyone. Puck's eyes narrowed and he glanced around, looking to make sure no one had read his thoughts.

"What are you looking for?" Rachel asked. Puck regained his composure. He couldn't let the Pucktasticness drop. He had to keep up his badasssness. He couldn't go weak, especially for Rachel Berry.

"Uh…nothing," Puck shook his head.

"So are you going to help me out here or not, Noah?"

There she goes again with my damn name, Puck seethed. Could there be a bigger annoyance in the world than Rachel Berry? She was looking at him with those damn eyes and a little unsure-of-itself smile. It was kind of adorable.

No! Rachel Berry was NOT adorable. Rachel Berry was a pain in the ass. She was annoying as fuck. Annoying people are NOT adorable. Rachel Berry is NOT adorable. No one is adorable in penny loafers and a pink sweater with a…_what is that_?

Oh my God, it's a fucking kitten. _No one_ is adorable in fucking kitten sweaters unless they're like five, and even then it's gag-worthy.

Puck squinted at the sweater.

Was she _really _wearing that?

Yup, a little kitten sat in the middle of a sweater with a pink bow in its fluffy hair and it had a little gold bell hanging from its neck. A fucking bell. Rachel Berry was wearing a kitten with a bell. She had clothes with bells.

Puck wanted to ram his fist through a locker.

"Are you staring at my chest?" Rachel asked, quickly covering herself with her arms.

"I was staring at the kitten. Are you really wearing a sweater with a kitten on it? I have a policy against teaching people football if they're wearing kitten sweaters. It kind of goes against my religion."

"We have the same religion, Noah," Rachel rolled her eyes, "And I happen to like this sweater."

"Of _course_ you do," Puck rolled his eyes, "Look, I'm gonna go now…"

"So you won't teach me football?" Rachel's eyes widened. Oh my God she looked like she was about to cry. Puck wanted to shake her. She was so fucking annoying. She wasn't really going to cry. She was going to do that fake shit where her eyes get all watery and her nose all red and she makes fake whimpering sounds.

He wasn't going to fall for it. Maybe Wonder Boy fell for that kind of bullshit, but not him. Nuh-uh. No siree bob. He wasn't going to let Rachel Berry and her fake crying get to him. She was like a fucking five year old sometimes.

"Damn it! Fine! Meet me after school in the park."

"Awesome!" Rachel hopped up and down, clapping her hands, "I'll be there with bells on."

"But if I see one fucking kitten, Berry, I'm done."

Rachel nodded enthusiastically. The kitten sweater would just have to go away until after practice.

"But…" her face fell, "I don't have anything to wear besides this right now."

Shit. Puck rolled his eyes and motioned Rachel to follow him to his locker. He did the combination and swung the little aluminum door open. After sorting through books and moldy food, Puck tossed her a waded up sweatshirt.

"Put that on then."

"It smells."

"Yeah, like sexy. You're wearing it or else no football lesson."

"Okay," Rachel pulled the sweatshirt over her head. It was huge and hung down to her knees practically. The arms were baggy. Puck rolled his eyes, marched over to her, and pushed the sleeves up for her.

"That's better," he stepped back, examining his work.

"I think I like the kitten better. She doesn't smell like sweat."

"Well you look cute," Puck said before stopping himself. Shit. Did he really just say that out loud?

"Why thank you, Noah. I'll see you after school."

She turned and kind of bounced down the hallway in her usual, happy Rachel Berry way. Puck watched her go, trying to ignore the tight feeling in his stomach. Puckasaurus doesn't get butterflies. Nancy's like Finn got butterflies, but not him. Especially around Berry.

Fucking kitten sweater!


	2. CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER TWO:

UP FOR THE CHALLENGE

A/N: There's a line that I used from an episode of Life With Derek. Wow, that brings back lots of fanfiction memories lol but whoever knows the line, gets extra brownie points. And who doesn't love brownie points, huh?

"All ready!" Rachel bounced across the field to where Puck was stretching his muscles. He didn't know why he had changed into just a wifebeater and sweats. He tried to convince himself that it was because he'd get all hot and sweaty in a shirt, but the cold air stung his skin. Maybe he just wanted Rachel to see what she was missing. Finn didn't have sexy arms like he did. Finn had toothpicks compared to Puck's "_sexy Jewish gun arsenal_" – as he preferred to call them.

"Good, you're still wearing that sweatshirt," Puck nodded towards her, "Those jeans okay to get dirty? You're not gonna squeal about grass stains or something when I tackle you."

"You're going to _tackle _me?" Rachel's eyes widened. She didn't know why she had a sudden wave of nervousness flood through her.

"Well I'm not gonna hurt you, if that's what you're scared of."

"I'm not scared of you," Rachel lied. She knew he wouldn't hurt her physically – of course he wouldn't – but she was scared of him for other reasons. One in particular being the feeling she knew he would make her feel if his skin came into contact with hers. The goosebumps and quickening rush of blood to her head. The dizziness.

Ugh.

Puck also was feeling a bit queasy at the thought. Not that that changed the fact that he wanted to grab her and throw her to the ground, pinning her underneath him. Why was he feeling like this? It was Rachel Berry for Christ's sakes! She was annoying and bitchy and geeky and a total freak. She sang showtunes in her sleep. Her idol was Barbra Streisand. She probably was still in possession of her V Card.

She didn't wear skanky clothes. She didn't curse. She didn't drink. She didn't put out. What the hell was he doing with her? She wasn't his type. But he liked her anyways. So did that mean that he didn't have a type.

What the hell was wrong with him? Of course he had a type and Rachel Berry was not it!

"Okay well I guess we should get this shit on the road," Puck rolled his eyes and held up his football, "this is the football. The pigskin. The golden ticket. You _want _the ball. You _need _the ball. If you have the ball…?"

"It's a good thing?"

"Well yes, but then you run your scrawny ass as fast as you can and you make a touchdown. That means taking this ball over to that line I drew over there. You toss it down. If you can't run all the way over there in time, you toss it off to someone who can. Got it so far?"

"I think so," Rachel nodded, "hold on."

She whipped out a fuzzy hot-pink notebook from her bag and a purple glittery pen with a feather sticking out of the end. Was she really about to take notes right now? Puck rolled his eyes, completely embarrassed by her. He prayed that no one would see this.

"What the _hell _do you think you're doin' Rachel Berry?"

"Taking notes. How else am I supposed to recall all this information and properly study it before the championship game? It's in two weeks you know."

"I think I know when the championship is," Puck snarled, "And you look like a fuckin' freak. Put that away…put that away!" Puck snatched it from her hands and tossed it aside. Rachel pouted. Puck hated the way that her bottom lip stuck out like that and he hated the way he so badly wanted to cover it with his own lips. He wanted to run his tongue across it. Bite it. Suck it. He wanted it. _Now_.

Puck mentally sucker-punched himself. What was wrong with him? Why was he being so stupid right now? It was Rachel Berry. He did NOT want to kiss Rachel Berry. He did NOT want to make out with Rachel Berry. He didn't want to touch Rachel Berry. He didn't want to be within a fifty-foot radius of Rachel Berry.

What Puck did want, however, was to be a better liar.

He was sucking miserably at it, and he hated himself for that. Fucking Rachel Berry! Fucking Rachel Berry…now that would be badass.

Oh my God! Puck kicked himself in the shin. What was his fucking problem today?

"What the heck is wrong with you?" Rachel backed away from him, "Don't hurt yourself! Are you crazy?"

"I-I don't know what that was…" Puck fought the blush that was so embarrassingly covering his cheeks, "So you think you're ready to learn how to throw and catch?"

"I think I know how to throw a ball, _No-ah_."

"Yeah. Sure. Show me," Puck challenged, shoving the ball into her hands.

Rachel gripped the ball in both hands and tossed it as hard as it could. It landed about two feet away with a flop. Puck turned away, snorts coming out of his nose. His shoulders were shaking and pretty soon the snickers and snorts turned into full blown laughter. The kind of laughter Rachel would never imagine coming from Noah Puckerman.

Rachel's cheeks flamed bright red.

"Are you laughing at me?" She demanded.

"Yes," Puck didn't even bother denying it, "Even you have to admit, that was the most pathetic thing ever. I mean, really, Berry? Is that really how you throw a ball? I know you're a total girl and all, but still…"

"Shut up!" Rachel marched over to him and shoved him with both hands. Puck, weakened by the laughter, stumbled backwards a tad.

"Did you _really _just do that?" Puck came towards her.

"What are you going to do about it?" Rachel challenged.

Puck stormed towards her, an unfamiliar glint in his eyes, "This."

He grabbed her like a sack of potatoes, picking her up in his arms, swinging her around as she screamed and squealed and begged him to put her down – which he did…eventually. After swinging her around, enjoying her squeals, Puck tossed her to the grass.

"Ow!" Rachel pouted.

"Football aint no bed of roses," Puck shrugged, "You get bruised up. You bleed. Get used to it."

"Did you _really _just do that?" Rachel asked, not understanding why her smile was seeping up to her eyes.

"Get your ass up, Berry," Puck rolled his eyes, "if you expect me to teach you how to throw a football."

"I-I don't think I really need to learn that. All I am going to do is sit in the stands. I don't need to throw anything."

"I am teaching you how to throw a fucking football rather you want to or not," Puck glared, and Rachel gave in. Neither one of them knew exactly what this power they had over each other was. It was completely unexplainable.

Rachel liked Finn. She knew that much was true. She was learning about football – the most pointless, irrational sport ever – just to impress him. So why was she allowing herself to feel so…drawn to Noah? It was Noah Puckerman for goodness' sakes! He was annoying and self-centered and egotistical. He drove her crazy. He drove her mad.

He was nothing to her, but an annoyance. And annoyances were NOT attractive.

"Alright," Rachel stood up, without any offered help from Puck. Once she was up off the ground, he walked towards her, putting his arms around her and placing her fingers around the white laces of the football. Rachel tried to ignore the goosebumps on her neck.

"Put your fingers here, like this," Puck said, his voice growing softer, not quite so gruff and commanding, "there you go. Just…like…that. Now when you throw it, bring your arm back, pull it back just like this. Elbow align with your…your mouth. There. Perfect. Now toss it. Hard. No more wimpy, girly throws, got it?"

Rachel looked up into his eyes and gave him one of her best eye-rolls. Puck rewarded her eye-roll with a crooked, half-grin.

"Berry…" he nodded. Rachel did as she was told and threw the football. It actually went about fifteen feet away. Rachel jumped up and down, clapping her hands and squealing. She was clearly very pleased with herself. Puck couldn't help but grin. He quickly realized what his lips were doing and covered his mouth with his hand. He couldn't let Rachel see.

"Did you see that?" Rachel cried, "It went far! I actually threw a football far, Noah! _Far_!"

"Not bad, Berry. Still throw like a girl though."

Rachel narrowed her eyes at him and Puck's grin turned into a small smirk. God, Rachel hated that smirk. She wanted to slap it off of his face for making her feel the way she did.

"Now you gotta learn to catch."

"I-I have absolutely no hand-eye coordination whatsoever, Noah," Rachel's eyes widened, "I will only be embarrassing myself…"

"And wearing a sweater with a kitten on it wasn't embarrassing enough?" Puck asked, Rachel smacked him lightly in the chest, "Hey!" Puck glared at her, "I could just not teach you football. I could just go home, pop open a beer, and watch a game. But noooo, I'm choosing to spend my time here. With you. Don't ask me why. In fact, I don't even know why. Maybe I should just go and let you figure it all out on your own."

"Noah!" Rachel folded her arms and stomped a little penny loafer on the ground.

"Wait…did you…did you really just do that?" Puck laughed, "I thought only girls in movies did that sort of lame dramatic shit."

"_No-ah_!" She whined.

"_Rach-el_!" He whined back, mimicking her down to the very octave.

"You are so incredibly impossible! I don't know how anyone can possibly put up with you! You drive me crazy, Noah!"

"It wasn't a far drive," Puck rolled his eyes.

"I hate you," Rachel lied.

"Yeah, same to you, Crazy," Puck lied right back.

Rachel and Puck stood there, staring intensely at each other for a moment. Both of the veins of their necks swelled violently. Their pupils were dilating. Both couldn't ignore, no matter how hard they tried to, the feeling of butterfly wings flapping in their stomachs.

"So are you going to teach me how to catch?" Rachel asked, leaning in a little closer to Puck. He could practically feel the breath of her words on his neck as she said, "Or are you not up for the challenge?"


	3. CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER THREE:

HATE IS A STRONG WORD

"Stand…stand over there," Puck pointed, "back up just a little…good…no…a little further…further…further. Okay! Good. Now then, I'm going to throw the ball to you and you catch in your hands. Grip it like this when you catch." Puck demonstrated.

Rachel came closer to get a better look.

"What are you doing? Stay back there!" Puck held up a hand.

"I can't see how you're holding it from all the way back there," Rachel whined.

"Well…you stay back there," Puck was getting flustered. Ever since Rachel was that close to him, he could feel his pulse quicken. It wasn't a good feeling. It was, but then again, it was Rachel…he can't be having those kinds of feelings for Rachel.

Besides, they were bullshit anyways – pointless. She liked Pattycakes, and there was nothing Puck could do to change that. He would teach her the ins and outs of football, and she'd scurry off to Finn – probably wearing that goddamn kitten sweater…and of course Finn would think it was just fucking adorable on her…and she would kiss him and tell him congratulations…because they would have won the championship…and he would kiss her back…with his nasty fish lips…and they would be the talk of the school.

It made Puck sick to his stomach. Or maybe that was just the chili-cheese burrito he had had for lunch…either way, he felt a wave of nauseousness pour over him.

"Ready?" Puck asked.

"No!"

He didn't care. He threw the football hard, Rachel tried to grab it, only to stumble backwards under the force of the ball. She glared at Puck. He glared back.

"I said I wasn't ready!"

"I didn't care."

"And don't throw it so hard."

"Don't be a baby," Puck rolled his eyes, frustrated, "I didn't even throw it near as hard as we do in practices and games. We throw it like fifty times harder. You're just a drama queen."

"Don't call me that!" Rachel pouted, hating the obnoxious nickname he had coined for her a few months back. It drove her crazy. Was she a drama queen? Certainly, but it was still rude for Noah Puckerman to point it out in such a condescending way.

"Well don't be such an obnoxious baby!"

"You're so arrogant. You think you're better than everyone else. You thrive off of the fear underclassmen portray around you. You find nourishment in others' pain and failure. You thirst off of their embarrassment. You're a cruel, devious…bastard!"

Puck just stood there. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He wasn't even sure he knew what some of those words meant. But he knew the definition of one for sure – bastard. Did little Miss Purity really just use a bad word?

"Did you really just call me a bastard?" Puck asked, still in disbelief.

"Yes, yes I did," Rachel stood up from the ground and wiped off the grass from her jeans, "You're always rude to me, but today it seems as if you are acting extraordinarily mean to me. I haven't done anything to you…"

Puck wanted to grab her and shake her and kiss her and show her just exactly how much she does do to him.

"You're annoying as fuck," Puck threw his hands up in the air out of sheer exasperation, "You march into my life and make me fall for you then you're back with Boy Wonder, then you guys break up, and then you get back together, and then you 'take a break' and then you ask me to teach you about football just so you can impress him."

"W-what?" Rachel couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"I am your ex, Berry. I'm kind of the last person that wants to help you and Finn get back together. You know what, I don't even know why I agreed to this. I should just leave…"

"Noah," Rachel shook her head, not quite knowing what to say.

"Forget it, Berry. You know what, if you don't want to be a part of my life, quit walking into it and tearing it all apart and fucking it all up. You're confusing as shit. You're annoying as fuck and I don't want to like you, Berry. I'd rather like…Brittany before I liked you. Fuck, I'd rather like goddamn Kurt before I liked you!"

"Noah…"

"And quit fucking calling me Noah. No one is allowed to call me that – especially you."

"But…" Rachel paled, "I-I don't understand."

"You really don't get it, do you?" Puck shouted, his face was growing red.

Rachel's head swam with confusion. She didn't get it. Puck was her friend. That's all he was. Sure, she had some feelings for him, but who wouldn't. They had a history together and he was gorgeous – of course she still felt something. But it meant nothing.

Puck didn't like her back and Finn did. Besides, she and Finn were good together. They belonged together!

She and Puck could hardly stand the sight of each other.

But things were seemingly alright. He had agreed to help her, they had laughed and had a good time. He had been as sweet as Noah Puckerman could possibly be. But then something had changed. He had snapped. She just didn't understand.

What had she done? What mistake had she made?

"No, Noah, so why don't you explain it to me?" Rachel shouted back, her hands balled up at her sides.

Puck turned a deeper shade of red at the sound of his name, "I'm out!"

"Puck!" Rachel screamed as he walked towards the parking lot, "What did I do? Talk to me! Please! Just talk to me!"

But he was already to the truck.

"Puck! Noah!" Rachel ran up to him, shouting his name.

Puck didn't care anymore. He didn't care if he hurt her. He just needed to get away from Rachel Berry.

"I hate you!" He shouted the lie before slamming the truck door shut and speeding away.


End file.
